Forget "Sex and the City". Welcome to "Booze and the Valley"! DISCLAIMER: No names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

A Hairballing Experience

Kelley was right. Friday night was a night begging to be blogged about. When you start blogging, you see life as yes or no. Yes, this would be a good blog, or no, this would not make it into a blog. Driving with Marcy to and from WalMart, and she slips and slides, almost rear ends a car, clips a snow bank, makes me carry her basket full of Dinty Moore stew and pot pies, and we end up yelling at each other? "YOU ARE A BLOG WAITING TO HAPPEN" was what I finally told her. So tonight was one of those nights.

A month ago, I coordinated a night out with a co-worker. There was an 80's coverband, "Hairball" playing at a large club. (The photo is their actual logo) So I sent a mass email inviting many people inside and outside of work to join us. On Monday I sent another email reminding them. A few backed out, a few couldn't make it, but a few actually dressed the 80's part! I saw a few of them, briefly. Most of my night was spent in the coat check line 3 times for 10-15 minutes per time. Or waiting for a waitress, or putting up with drunk girls in the bathroom. There was also the drunk girl that my sweater got caught on. She tried to rip my sweater thread from her. I gave her the finger and yelled at her. I thought I was disconnected from her. Oops..still stuck to her! Luckily she was drunk and didn't want to kick my ass. I'm all talk, anyway. I had visions of my loose knitted sweater having a huge hole in the sleeve, or a long run up my arm. I wore this sweater to my wedding dinner/reception, people!! It has sentimental value!! Whatev. Not a sweater to wear in a crowd. If only she had been a hot, single man......We lost the rest of the group right away.

The band was pretty good. Costumes, sounded like Van Halen, or Prince, or Poison. Bobbi was upset when the singer got "Talk Dirty to Me" wrong. We weren't drunk enough. That was the problem. The night was one big "I'm too old for this shit/I'm too sober for this shit". I just didn't feel like standing on the edge of the crowd, getting jostled, listening to songs I don't remember.

How you know you're too old (or sober) for this clubbing shit:-You wear your winter coat into the bar. (When we were 21, we just ran quickly, and were too drunk to feel it)-You don't think it makes sense to wait in line to get into the bar. (I guess when you're younger, it has some sort of elitist appeal. The longer the line, the better the time inside??)-You wonder how those girls can stand in those shoes?!-You wonder how those girls can be so thin??!!-You'd rather pee outside than endure drunk girls in the bathroom.-You wonder why the fucking music has to be so fucking loud. Doesn't anyone talk anymore??

The highlight of the night was the girl at the ATM who kept saying "This isn't working! Why isn't this working?" Not sure if she thought the machine was broken or if her card was broken. But the screen clearly said "INSUFFICIENT FUNDS". A lot of those kids in that bar should've had that tattooed across their foreheads in reference to their intelligence.